


Like tears that hit the ocean

by traumschwinge



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Beach Sex, Dubious Consentacles, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Wereoctopus, What Was I Thinking?, at least there's not much plot to speak of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1729052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumschwinge/pseuds/traumschwinge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles sits on the pier close to the family summer house one night to watch the stars and enjoy the solitude, when he suddenly finds a tentacle wrapped around his wrist and an octopus on his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like tears that hit the ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [issabella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/gifts), [velvetcadence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcadence/gifts).



> I could go and [blame](http://issabella.tumblr.com/post/87391350548/octopus-erik-puts-chin-in-hand-tell-me-more) Issabella for this but I brought it all over me myself. It's (sadly) all my own fascination with Charles and an octopus, or rather, a wereocotopus.

Charles sat on the pier close to their summer house. It was a warm night. The stars twinkled above as Charles watched. He enjoyed the loneliness of the place and how unlikely it was that anyone would look for him here.

He was so relaxed and absorbed with the view above and before him that he started crying. He hadn’t cried in years, no matter how much he had felt like crying. He’d always been too afraid to show his pain. As if letting it out would make it all the more real.

He was so busy crying that he didn’t even hear the splash as something came out of the ocean, nor the wet sound of said something hitting the wood behind him. What got his attention was the cold tentacle suddenly encircling his wrist.

Charles screamed and tried to pull away but the grip was surprisingly strong and held his hand where it was. He still tried to scramble away from the octopus but it was useless. He even tried to lift it up, but the octopus held on to the pier and it was useless. For a moment of fatalistic idiocy, Charles thought,  _ Great, now I get eaten by an octopus just when I thought I could have peace for once. _

But then the octopus started to stroke the back of his hand, gently, softly, as if to soothe him. Charles blinked at the octopus. Maybe it didn’t want to eat him after all. The way another tentacle came up to bush away a tear off Charles’ cheek only confirmed this to him.

Charles tried to lift the octopus up again, gently this time. And like this, the octopus let go of the pier, just to wrap its arms around both sides of Charles’ hip, claiming its seat in Charles’ lap. Charles sighed.

"Well, at least I’m not lonely anymore like this," he murmured. For a moment, he hesitated, but when he looked down into the octopus’ slitted eyes, he gave in to the notion and hugged it. "Thank you."

The octopus shifted its grip around Charles, two of its arms coming up to pat his shoulders. Charles bit back another sob. It was really pathetic to let an octopus console him, wasn’t it?

Soon enough, the patting stopped in favor of cool strong arms stroking Charles’ shoulder, up and down his arms, gently brushing over his neck and throat. If Charles’ shivered at that, it wasn’t from the cold. He wasn’t cold. Quite the contrary. And he was getting warmer with each of the octopus’ touches.

For a second Charles wondered if the octopus could understand what it was doing to him but then he noticed the tentacle creeping up his stomach and to his nipple. He only had seconds to be confused about this, before a sucker closed around his nipple. Charles let out a strangled moan. That did noting to deter the octopus, though.

Charles looked down at it in confusion. He had never felt this hot before. This was wrong that was all he knew. He could already feel himself getting hard under the pleasant weight of the octopus on his lap. But the octopus didn’t seem to mind. One of the wandering tentacles had fonds its way back to Charles face, sucking what felt like a kiss to his cheek, before it started to brush over Charles’ red lips.

Charles could taste the ocean on his lips now, salty and fishy but not altogether unpleasant. He was almost tempted to open his mouth and let the tentacle in. The more sarcastic part of his mind commented with  _ Look at you, being taken advantage of by an octopus. Couldn’t even loose your virginity to another human being. _  But that part was quickly shut up when the octopus let go of his nipple with a smacking noise.

Charles arched his back. He could barely sit upright anymore. He didn’t want to. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto the pier, lying on the slightly damp wood with the stars above him and an octopus’ tentacles everywhere on his body.

He was shaking and by then definitely hard when the octopus pushed up his tee and started to cover his whole upper body with hickies, using its suckers to leave him marked. Charles felt like he was burning up from the inside with want and need.

Not a moment too soon a tentacle had found its way below the waistband of his shorts, gently wrapping around his straining dick. It pulled on him, slowly, not yet enough to bring Charles off but enough to make him open his mouth and take the tentacle into his mouth that still had been stroking his lips.

Charles enjoyed the weight of the tentacle on his tongue more than he would have anticipated. He was quivering and could barely breath around it but he still sucked on the salty tentacle as if for his dear life.

The octopus’ pull on his penis, the sucking on his nipples and being stroked all over by cold,wet arms was almost too much, he felt like he was loosing himself. But what undid him in the end was when it started to fuck its tentacle into his mouth.

The octopus stroked Charles through his climax and even held his shaking frame though the afterglow. At some point, Charles fell asleep, exhausted and disheveled but also relaxed and pleased as he had never been before. 

In the small hours of the morning, clouds started to cover the night sky and the full moon. Charles curled up in his sleep, shivering from the cold. That was when a jacket was placed around his shoulders, before someone dropped back into the ocean with a splash far louder than an octopus would have caused.

—

When Charles finally woke, it was well into the morning. He had no illusions that anybody would be looking for him, but he still felt a little bad for falling asleep on the pier without telling anyone where he was. It wasn’t until he moved and felt his body ache all over that he remembered what had happened to him, he’d done the night before. Shame burned on his cheeks and ears. He pulled the jacket around his shoulders closer as if it could hide the marks on his body any better than his tee.

Charles frowned at the jacket when he realized that he had never seen it before. Somebody must have left it with him. His blush grew brighter as he understood that that meant somebody had seen him, sleeping on the pier, spent and with come stained pants.

For a moment all he could do was stare out onto the ocean in mortified shock.

When he could finally move again, he started patting down the jeans jacket. He wanted to know who had seen him like this but he even more wanted to learn who had cared enough to leave his jacket with him instead of letting him freeze for falling asleep on the pier. He found a pack of cigarettes in the breast pocket, as well as a lighter and, curiously enough, keys in another pocket.

There was a distinct lack of identification, such as a name tag or a forgotten wallet with an ID in it. Charles cursed.

He had considered taking a quick bath in the ocean to at least somewhat clean himself up before heading back to the house but decided against it. Wet clothes weren’t that much more comfortable and he didn’t want to put his sticky shorts back on after he had bathed. So he settled for hurrying back and hoping that he wouldn’t meet anyone before he’d reached his room and the bathroom if only he slipped back in through the kitchen entrance.

He had almost reached the house when he heard voices and froze dead in his tracks.

"What do you mean you lost you keys?" he could hear the cook hiss. She was a lovely woman and Charles liked her very much, but he’d never heard her like this before. It was almost terrifying.

"They were in the pocket of my jacket and I misplaced it somewhere," a young male voice answered. Her son, Charles realized.

"When was that?" the cook wanted to know.

Charles couldn’t hear what her son replied but he could hear her say, “What are you waiting for, then? Hurry and go search of it!”

Charles wished he had hidden when he had heard the voices. But he hadn’t and so the cook’s son bumped right into him where he was on the path to the pier, jacket still slung around his shoulders.

"Ouch," the— _oh, damn, he’s handsome_ , a very unhelpful part of Charles noticed—young man said as they both fell to the ground.

"I was just about to say the same," Charles groaned. It was clearly unfair that he had made a fool out of himself in front of this gorgeous boy without even actively doing anything. At least he had some retaliation if the way the boy’s eyes went wide as he recognized him was any indication. "I believe I found your jacket," Charles said carefully. However he didn’t make a move to take it off.

"So you did," the boy replied, stunned. He was even gaping a little.

"Is something wrong?" Charles hissed. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware how he looked. 

"It’s…" The boy shook his head. "You’re just even more beautiful in daylight."

Now it was Charles’ turn to gape. Say what?

"Listen," the boy said. "Keep the jacket. At least until…" He motioned to Charles, indicating his disheveled appearance. "Keep it for now. Just give me the keys. And…I promise I won’t tell anyone if you don’t."

Instinctively, Charles reached into the pocket and handed over the keys. The boy took the with the widest smile Charles had ever seen. He could have fallen for him there and then. “Thanks,” Charles finally managed to say after he had swallowed twice against his dry throat. “But I have one condition?”

"Which one?" the boy asked.

"Tell me your name," Charles said.

"Erik," the boy smiled. "I’m Erik, Charles."

"Erik," Charles repeated. He just hoped he didn’t sound as dreamily as he did in his head. 

"Thanks for finding my keys, Charles," Erik said. He leaned forward and Charles couldn’t help doing the same. A moment later, he felt Erik’s lips press against his cheek. For a weird moment, it felt just like the octopus’ suckers had. Charles was so stunned by this that he didn’t register Erik getting up and walking back to the house, whistling and playing with his keys.

  
  


 


End file.
